


The Road to Recovery

by orphan_account



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Elves, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Flashbacks, M/M, Minor Character Death, Multi, Psychological Torture, Recovery, i torture the ones i love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-02-25 09:20:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2616551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Valley of Imladris is not as peaceful as previously thought. When a horrific event strikes the Last Homely House, will its lord and occupants recover? And what will become of the missing?...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Road to Recovery

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheWomanWhoWaited](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWomanWhoWaited/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is taken from Simon & Garfunkel's "Sound of Silence".

A lone figure ran through the woods, ducking under branches and dodging trees. It had speed that only comes with fear and desperation, but could not keep up that pace for long, fatigue causing its legs to stumble and reflexes to slow. Twigs whipped across its face, leaving angry red marks in their wake. Mud caked boots and eventually limbs as several falls took their toll. Clothing was ripped and hair pulled. The figure was quickly losing to the limitations of its own body. It fell to its knees, sobbing harshly as the sound of its pursuers grew, knowing they were closing in. There was no hope now. It raised its gaze to the canopy, choking out a rough cry of anguish.

"I am sorry, my lord."

~~~~~

Two figures stood side by side on a balcony, facing outward over the valley of Imladris. The shorter turned to place a comforting hand on the other's shoulder, squeezing slightly in a vain effort to console.

"We will find them, Elrond." his quiet voice murmured, a gaze full of anguish and determination meeting one of grief and despair.

"I fear we are too late, meldir.." The elven lord replied, his pewter eyes turning toward the floor. "I have failed them."

"It was not your fault. Do not blame yourself. We were taken by surprise, even Glorfindel is doubting himself now." The advisor sighed, rubbing his temple. Their city needed its leaders strong and confident, but none of them were prepared to face the tragedy that befell them. Even Glorfindel, the great slayer of the Balrog, was visibly shaken. He was currently down in the valley giving his respects to the families of the abducted and assuring them that a search party would be moving out the next day.

Elrond shook his head in sadness, feeling the losses personally. He was supposed to keep his people safe here... Erestor was helping but he hurt as well. And the robbing of one in particular hit the house of Elrond hard. The head minstrel, Lindir, quiet and shy and always ready to assist; he had been taken as well.

"I pray we find them in time." was all he said, pushing away from the railing and leaving the councillor to his thoughts.

"I pray we find them." Erestor murmured to himself, knowing how unlikely it was they they did. When the dark forces plotted, little else could sway the plans.

~~~~~

Glorfindel finished his rounds, knowing in his heart that his words would not do much to heal the pain felt by each family. The search party would leave at dawn, but the blonde doubted they would find anything, or anyone. He had born witness to the evil of Melkor before, and the spawns of his hate were not all stupid. Sauron especially. This had to have been his doing. No mere orc could lay out an attack as strategic as this.

But, life in the Hidden Valley would go on; it had to. He swore under his breath in ancient Quenya, running a hand over his face. Even young Lindir... they would most likely never see the bard again. Valar only knew what would be done to the abducts.

He heard his name called, and turned to see Erestor waving him over from the steps leading to the main house. Glorfindel shook himself out of dark thoughts, making his way over to the dark-haired ellon.

"What is it you need of me?" he asked.

"It is Elrond." The cheif councillor sighed. "He is not taking this well."

"Are any of us?" The Elda asked, blue eyes darkening in anger at the abductors.

Erestor shook his head. "No, but I fear his feä has taken a blow.."

Glorfindel frowned more at this news. "Do you know for sure?"

"No, I only suspect, but you know how close they were. Lindir was like a son to him. It is as if Elladan or Elrohir was stolen from him."

The blonde did not push the issue, but if the Lord of Imladris faltered, the city itself would crumble.

~~~~~

>>FLASHBACK<<

 

The Lord of Imladris felt a smile tug at his lips as he watched his children play in the shallow stream. Elladan and Elrohir were rowdy as usual, splashing and dunking each other. Arwen giggled quietly from her place in his lap, watching her brothers battle it out amongst the resident fish. His close friends, Erestor and Glorfindel, were present as well, sitting with him in the shade of a large tree. The only person missing was his dear Celebrian... he felt a pang in his chest when he thought about her. Even though she had died several years ago whilst giving birth to Arwen, he still felt her loss. Looking back to his companions he noticed that Glorfindel was once more attempting to win the affection of the dark advisor, and once again failing as Erestor simply rolled his eyes at the warrior's overtures of love and pushed him over. Elrond smiled; Erestor would not be able to hold him off forever and Glorfindel was nothing if not persistent. He would not give up easily.

"Ada!" called a young voice, and Elrond looked up to watch Elladan scamper over looking proud. The elfling held out his hands to reveal a small toad cradled in them. Evidently he had caught the poor creature near the river where he had been swimming. Arwen squealed at the sight of it, squirming around and out of her father's lap, putting distance between herself and the offending amphibian by running to seek shelter behind Erestor. Elladan grinned, pleased with the reaction he had garnered from his younger sibling. 

"That is gross, 'Dan:" the young elleth shrieked at her brother, little hands clutching the muted robes of her current living shield as though she could meld into them if she held on tight enough.

Elrond shook his head in exasperation; his children somehow never seemed to get along, but Erestor lifted Arwen into his arms as he stood, holding her out of reach of the creature. "I agree, Miss Arwen, a toad is as vile as any living thing may be."

Arwen giggled again, happy that someone was on her side.

Elladan stuck out his tongue at her before running off again. Erestor offered to take Arwen back to the house, which Elrond agreed to readily. The councillor left with a small bow of goodbye to both of the other ellyn, leaving Glorfindel to watch the twins with Elrond. 

"You seem convinced he is mad with infatuation for you and simply cannot see so." The lord of Imladris stated, turning his head to give his companion an amused smile.

Glorfindel grinned, nodding, "Less sure and more hopeful. Though he has not berated me yet, only dodged. I will ensnare him one day."

Elrond smiled wider, thinking the two were a good match. They balanced out one another well, and each had resided in the city for a good time without intimate companionship; something Elrond understood was necessary in the lives of most elves. There were some that preferred to be alone, though. As he brought himself out of his thoughts, a quick glance at the sun showed him that it was becoming near to time for supper, so the elven lord called to his sons so they could all wash up and change for the meal.

`````  
(That evening.)

The Hall of Fire was packed as usual, a slight din of noise filling the air in that comforting and welcoming way that was almost always explainable. The large windows were open during this time of the year, to allow in the sun's light and the cool breezes. Later on they would be closed and the massive fireplaces would be lit, showing that which gave the room its name.

As the meals and conversations toned down, a few musicians began to set up their instruments. The crowd was entertained with a few energetic songs and a few slow ones, and elves danced together through them all or simply watched, remembering a time when they were the ones twirling and swaying. The evening wore on, and towards the close of the night a final source of entertainment stepped up. A young bard, name unknown so far, was scheduled to play. It was rumored that Gildor himself had taught the elf at one time and had praised of his natural talent.  
The ellon that took up position was of slight build, and the harp he possessed rested against a shoulder clad in dull brown. Such was the color of most low-ranked minstrels, and nothing else adorned his body or hair to give away a status or house name, simply adding to the mystery and intrigue of the gathered. The harp was a beautiful piece, however. Dark, rich wood formed the body which was engraved with delicate birds all the way up the scroll. The strings glinted, showing they were well-made and well-kept. Chocolate brown hair spilled over one shoulder when he shifted.  
The first chords rang out, effectively silencing any remaining bits of noise. A clear, sweet voice lifted in song, delivering haunting tones and verse well-known to the older elves present.

"Gil-Galad was an elven king,  
of him the harpers sadly sing.  
The last whose realm was fair and free,  
between the mountains and the sea.

His sword was long, his lance was keen,  
his shining helm afar was seen.  
The countless stars of heaven's field  
were mirrored in his silver shield.

But long ago, he rode away,  
and where he dwells none can say.  
For into darkness fell his star,  
in Mordor where the shadows are..."

As the last of the notes filtered away, not a dry eye was present in the house, even those too young to understand the tale behind the song or why it stirred them so. As one sound, applause filled the air to brimming, and the unknown minstrel was seen to have excused himself early, face darkened by a blush.

~~~~~

The next day saw Gildor Inglorion standing with his former pupil in a room normally used for councils, but today only the pair and Lord Elrond, Lord Glorfindel, Círdan (who happened to be passing through the Valley at the time), and Councillor Erestor inside the modest sized area. The elder elves were praising the work of the young ellon and Gildor also for having a hand in his tutelage.

"The lad has a gift for it, my lords." The exiled elf commented with an underlay of pride in his voice; smiling and winking at the bard, who flushed lightly at the praise, picking at the hem of the tunic he wore in an effort to possibly never have to make eye contact with the renowned lords of Imladris and sink into the rug under his feet at the same time.

"By what name are you called, young master?" Glorfindel asked in a friendly tone, noticing the shyness. "And don't you get all timid over me, Círdan is the one that bites and Lord Elrond is the only one you have to worry about putting toads in your bed."

The musician grinned at that and raised his eyes to the blonde's, recognizing that the other was making an attempt to relax him; (though the elves in question did not necessarily appreciate being the expenses of the joke) just being in the room was quite intimidating.  
"Lindir, my lords." he answered in a quiet but smooth voice, the sound like the gentle waters of a running brook over rounded stones, his reply effectively snuffing out any ensuing arguments, though Círdan looked more amused at his teasingly assigned attribute.

"And your family name?" Erestor questioned, though Gildor winced a bit as Lindir abruptly looked down again at the inquiry, and spoke up in the young elf's stead. "Lindir is an orphan, my lords..."

Sympathetic looks were thrown in the young elf's direction. Orphan elves often did not survive outside of one of the three elven realms, and even inside them they faced a hard life. If not gifted with a talent in some area they usually ended up working and living in a low-class station. Some did work their way up to higher level positions, but it was difficult without any family influence. Added to the hardship was the possible shunning or even bullying that occasionally occurred. The rulers of the three realms worked hard to eradicate such behavior, but not everything could be supervised at all times. It was a sad truth, but one that could not be brushed aside.

"I took him in and raised the lad, and I do think he's turned out quite well." Gildor continued, smiling once again at Lindir when the brunette looked up at him with a grateful shine in those violet eyes. Gildor had been like a father to Lindir, and he was immensely grateful that the exiled elf had chosen to take care of him rather than leave him to fate anywhere else.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, my lords," Gildor began, turning to the other occupants of the room, "I am afraid I have other business to attend to. Lindir," he faced the ellon, "you may stay if you wish, I am sure the others would like to become more familiar with you."

Lindir nodded after a brief hesitation, agreeing to stay even though it was daunting to be left alone with the others. Though Erestor and Círdan were not necessarily great warriors as of this Age, the former's skill in politics and negotiation was unrivaled, and one only needed to crack open a historical text to know what the bearded elf had accomplished. Elrond was the kind Lord of Imladris, warrior and healer to name a few titles, who had served under Erenion Gil-Galad, and Glorfindel was, of course, the golden warrior of old, great slayer of the Balrog, Vanyar Lord of the House of the Golden Flower.  
He felt very insignificant to say the least. But Gildor had already disasppeared.

"So what brings you to Imladris, young Lindir?" Elrond asked, giving a gentle smile. He knew a moment like this could be intimidating, and decided to follow Glorfindel's lead and try to make the lad relax as much as possible.

The bard couldn't help but notice how the half-elven lord's gray; no, pewter, eyes lit up with that smile and how his hair was a few shades darker than his own, more dark oak than liquid chocolate.  
"I had hoped to stay here for a time, my lord," was the mumbled answer, a shy blush taking over the elf's features, "To learn from the minstrels here and perhaps even find a position amongst them."

"Then I welcome you to the Valley and offer you a place to stay in my house." Elrond replied, knowing it was highly unlikely that Lindir had a place arranged already. Gildor was, in reality, a travelling elf, and he would not stay here for long, certainly not as long as Lindir was most likely planning to.

"My thanks, Lord Elrond." The young ellon bowed his head in respect and appreciation to them all. It was an extremely kind and unexpected offer to receive, the House of Elrond was for those of high status or importance to the family itself. t was an honor to be invited into such a circle. He turned his attention to the group once more, "If I may be excused, I will take my leave of you. It was an honor to meet you all."

The others said their goodbyes and watched the youngster leave, waiting for the door to click shut before turning to face each other. Glorfindel grinned at the other three, clasping Elrond's left shoulder and Erestor's right in a playful, companionable manner as he spoke first, unknowingly voicing what they all thought,  
"I like him already!"

~~~~~

Life in the Hidden Valley went on without much excitement, though one could not necessarily say that and be telling the whole truth when you lived in the same proximity as the twin sons of Elrond. But still, years passed, elflings were born (they were few and far between), elves that felt the call of the sea or had tired of the world sailed West, and nothing of importance happened for a time, establishing a young, but cherished time of peace and quiet for a time.

That was, until the day every resident (excluding the two in question) had looked forward to for what seemed like an age. The Peredhil twins, Elladan and Elrohir, reached their majority. Many allowed their minds to create fantasies of days without pranks or messes plaguing their work or leisure; however, no one truly let themselves get too absorbed with this hope, because no matter the age, the brothers would always be quirky and amusing.

As for the rest of the members of the House of Elrond, Glorfindel had finally managed to make a dent in Erestor's otherwise stony exterior, and the withdrawn advisor had accepted Glorfindel's request to court him at last. The pair was seen on occasion walking together in the beautifully created and meticulously cared for gardens; deep in conversation. Lord Elrond himself had not changed much, though his keen eyes were often monitoring the young ellyn that befriended his daughter. Arwen had grown into a beautiful young elleth, and was already catching the eye of a few. She still had a ways to go as for maturing, and she studied well. As for Lindir, the bard had adjusted well to life in Rivendell and gradually worked his way through the ranks of the musicians until one fine spring morning he was quite startled indeed to discover a letter on his desk offering him the place of head minstrel. The former head had retired and gone to live with his family, and while Lindir himself was shy and unsure about it, the other minstrels encouraged him, for they had quickly grown to adore the young singer and accepted him smoothly into their ranks and now as their leader.

Many new faces were introduced over time, including the son of Thranduil; a handsome young elf named Legolas, who accompanied his father on a diplomatic trip once and soon joined the twins in their cavorting, forging a friendship with them that ran deep. Also, regular trips were made by Haldir of Lorien, a good friend of Glorfindel's and a warden of the Lady. Today they were all seen together to celebrate the ceremony, including Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn, the twins' grandparents.

The Hall of Fire was being used for where the actually ceremony was going to take place, as it was the only indoor space large enough for such an event. Of course, it could be held outside, but even though elves did not feel the cold as mortals did, the chilling wind of the coming winter season did not make for necessarily pleasant conditions in extended periods. Feasting and dancing carried on for most of the afternoon, as was per usual, and things only began to quiet down towards evening. Relatives and close friends of the two ellyn found chairs or a place in the back to stand as they waited for the indication of the beginning of the ancient tradition. The sound of a slow drum beat announced the arrival of the princes, and all eyes turned to the banister above.

Elladan, the eldest, appeared at the top of the stairs first, joined almost immediately after by Elrohir, who came to stand next to his sibling. The two were dressed almost-identically in fine tunics of silver-gray, with dark leggings tucked into supple, black leather boots. The embroidery of the hems of the clothing glinted like the circlets that adorned their brows. This is where their outfits differed, the headwear showing their status, with each being a bit different and showing who it belonged to. They descended the steps leading to the main floor in that easy unison only twins could manage, each one bringing them closer to the long-awaited adulthood. Finally they reached the dais where their father stood, bowing slightly before him. Any one could see the pride in Elrond as he gazed at his sons, and he smiled, inclining his head in acknowledgement of their deference.

"Elladan and Elrohir Elrondion," he began, his smooth voice carrying through the room with the ease of a practiced orator, "we gather to recognize the coming of the day of your majority. This is the first step into elfhood for the two of you, and the first occasion for either of you to know the touch of another."

Elladan gave a sly glance sideways at his brother, lips twitching in an almost smirk. His father caught the glance as well, but instead of ignoring it, he glared a warning at him before continuing.

"I and those present now recognize your coming of age, and declare you no longer elflings, but ellyn!"

The gathered crowd let out a cheer at that, and applause rang out. Elrond waited for it to die down before finishing.

"I now call on you, Elladan, to choose your first physical companion, who will educate you this night in the ways of pleasure."

The elder twin turned, having already discussed with his choice ad been accepted. "I call on Lady Alinne." he spoke, and the elleth in question stood gracefully and walked to him with the grace befitting an elf, where they bowed to one another and Elladan offered his arm to her. She took it, and they waved cheekily to the others, getting a few catcalls and whistles on their way out. They were very alike in personality, and many thought it an appropriate match.

Elrond turned to his second son, and spoke to him. "I now call on you, Elrohir, to choose your first physical companion, who will educate you this night in the ways of pleasure."

Elrohir faced the crowd, feeling significantly less confidant than his twin had appeared to be. But he wouldn't let anyone else know that. If there was one thing he had learned from his years of tutelage under Erestor, it was how to stay outwardly cool, calm, and collected. He hesitated briefly, blushing slightly to his chagrin, and then spoke.

"I call on Haldir of Lorien."

\-------------

Unsurprisingly, there was a good amount of stunned silence after the younger prince spoke. Not because of the gender of his choice, no, nothing as frivolous as that. Elves had long ago accepted the different forms of love, though men had yet to become accustomed and comfortable with the fact. No, it was the fact that Elrohir had never before shown any inclination towards the male gender. If anyone, they expected Elladan to do so, if his flirtatious and preference of leaning-towards physical affection nature spoke for anything.

However, the quiet ended relatively quickly as Haldir rose, a kind smile on his face as he made his way to the dais. He had not been expecting to be asked for this, but, while, surprising, he could not lie to himself and say he was not pleased. The twins were an exotic pair, lithe and beautiful, and he found himself looking forward to this encounter. He and Elrohir bowed to one another, the peredhel still blushing slightly. A lewd wink sent it back to a deeper shade, and the Lorien warden felt satisfaction rise in him. Though he stuffed it down and sombered slightly when he saw Elrond's stern gaze on him, watching him closely. Haldir offered his arm, and Elrohir took it, letting the warrior lead him out of the room to the sound of applause and a few cat calls from close friends.

The rest of the elves were dismissed and they all dispersed, gossiping as was their way about the events of the evening, the twins' choices and any other interesting topic of the day as they went home. The bright glare of the red sun fading behind the dark tips of the mountains surrounding the beautiful valley dimmed ever so slowly as it sank lower. Several elves; however, were just beginning their activities for the night. If one looked, he might see Elladan and Alinne walk to her chambers, where he had let her lead him. The door was shut with a smirk and would not be opened until morn.

Elrohir brought Haldir to his chambers, not knowing what to expect. He was not as outgoing and lascivious as his brother, and while he was familiar with his body, it made him anxious to think about what would soon come. Haldir noticed the nervousness of the young elf, and smiled reassuringly, taking Elrohir's hand and lifting it to his lips.

"I am honored to share this with you, Elrohir." he said in a soothing tone, emerald eyes softening as he looked into the pewter of Elrohir's. "Are you ready?"

Elrohir took a deep breath, closing his eyes fro a moment. He gathered his thoughts, cleared his mind of any remaining misgivings and let himself breathe deeply. Then, he reopened them.

"Aye, I am."

 

~~~~~

 

Erestor glanced one last time around the room, very content that each little object was placed exactly where it belonged. He was a creature of habit and organization, but in recent days found his routine disturbed by a certain ray of sun. Glorfindel to be specific. However.. the reclusive advisor discovered he did not mind as much it as he initially believed he would. The Vanya had shown him things in the Valley he had never known existed, such as the beautiful wild lilies growing in a secluded section of forest near the waterfalls, the lovely jewelry-smith living in a small shop down at the market, and the area where the children begged the reborn warrior to join their games and let them braid flowers into his golden hair. One small, silvery-haired child had shyly made his way over to where Erestor had been sitting, watching with an amused look, and offered him a flower of his own.

A firm knock at the door broke him out of his musings and alerted him to the arrival of the aforementioned ellon, and he could not prevent a small smile that snuck onto his otherwise stoic features. He quickly composed himself and made his way to the door, opening it and looking up at the elf that stood there.

"Ah, Glorfindel," he greeted passively. "You are late."

Glorfindel only chuckled, and curse him for that, giving a slight bow. "It is wonderful as ever to see you as well, Erestor."

Curse him again for being so cheery and unaffected by normalcy. "That is up for debate."

The blonde smiled softly, leaning closer to press a gentle kiss to the shorter ellon's pale cheek, feeling pleased when he saw it color with a light pink. Erestor cleared his throat, ducking his head to look at the floor for the briefest of moments before returning the Elda's admiring gaze.

"Shall we go, then?" he asked, hating how Glorfindel could make his normally collected and cool voice become stilted.

"Yes, we shall." Glorfindel smiled, offering his arm for the other. The advisor took it hesitantly, though inside he secretly enjoyed the close proximity. They departed, following a route they both knew well.  
~~~~~  
He had always imagined waking up from a forced unconsciousness would be like being dropped in ice water. A jolt, really, a sudden awareness of what was around him. Lindir found that it was quite the opposite. It was molasses in his mind and limbs; first the discovery that he could open his eyes, then the aches unfamiliar to an elven body, and when he was finally able to muster the strength to lift his head he immediately wished he hadn't been able to do so.

The sight...

Déjà-vu came in the form of a hard blow to the back of the head and the abyss claimed him once more.

~~~~~~


End file.
